I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST JAPAN,
but Korea totally does.
This isn't to say ALL Koreans hate Japan, (mostly the older Korean folks) but the cultural animosity is definitely there.
Also in my story as well.
Yeah, I did my homework. 😎 (I got most of my info from "The Birth of Korean Cool" by Euny Hong. Definitely recommend.)
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TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of rape
The wind howled outside the reinforced window of his sturdy house. Along with the wind, the thunder seemed to shake the very ground, rendering any listener deaf. The sky lit up every so often, making the room go blindingly white to the point where you just had to resort to keeping your eyes shut.
Of course, Baekhyun didn't find this particularly hard to do since his face was shoved into my chest, letting out screams and strangled cries almost nonstop.
His arms were firmly locked around my torso while he straddled my lap.
A particularly terrible sound made it's way out of Baekhyun and I clutched him tighter and settled against my bed.
"Baekhyun-ah, Baekhyun-ah," I chanted on a loop, rocking him back and forth. I slid my hand up to the back of his head, sifting my fingers through the soft black locks.
My mother stuck her head in my room after the last cry Baekhyun let out.
Her face turned distraught when she saw his state.
You'd think she'd be used to it by now, you'd think I'd be used to it by now. Baekhyun always gets like this during storms.
And if you're living in Dokdo, storms are only too common.
Fortunately for Baekhyun (and me), he can usually hold his own during the less violent storms.
But on days like today, it's all he can do to hold onto me and try to make it through.
I make eye contact with my mom and nod, telling her that we're fine. She gave me a small smile and slipped out.
After a few hours, Baekhyun grew tired of the whole ordeal and fell asleep, slumping his head on my chest. I took deep breaths as I extracted myself out of his grip and laid him down on my bed. I pushed a hand through my hair sighing deeply before walking over to the small closet and pulling out extra blankets and pillows before walking out to the living room and crashing on the couch.
The next morning, Baekhyun walked out of my room with a red, flushed face.
"I'm really sorry about last night, Chanyeol-ah, again," he emphasised.
"It's ok, mom left you some food on the table, it's your favourite, fish," I said, trying to hide a laugh.
Baekhyun snickered.
"Better not be. Isn't that everyone's favourite on this island?" He said walking towards the kitchen.
"Everyone except yours," I replied going back to the sales records for the amount of fish my dad sold either on Ulleungdo or back in the big part of the country.
We live on the Dokdo Islands. The hotly contested islands of South Korea sought after by Japan for years, but it was never really theirs, let's be honest. Still, the islands were also called Takeshima, but that word is taboo to the actual residents here.
There are two main islets and we live on the West Islet known as Seodo. (Or Otoko-Jima, sounds like a mouthful if you ask me.)
Baekhyun settled next to me on the couch with some murky looking soup and bread.
"I can't believe you hate fish. Everyone here likes fish, you pretty much have to," I commented, looking over at him.
"Yeah, and those people plan on staying here for the rest of their life too," he said, absentmindedly chewing on his bread.
I fell silent and dropped my gaze. Baekhyun sensed it too.
My mom walked in right at that second, her arms full of eggs from our chickens out back.
